Avatalia: Earth Book
by Ad-Idem
Summary: Avatar:TLA AU. With the threat of an Ice Age, Avatar Roma sends Al, Matt, and Sey of the Southern Water Tribe on a quest to unite the kingdoms. Fire Prince Ludwig begins with his motley crew to build an army to ward off Ivan and his brutal general.
1. The Runaways

**Right: **Okay, so here is a second joint-fic for this account. Left and I tried something completely different in writing this story as opposed to our other ongoing joint fic (In Which a Game Is Played). Where we wrote separate but interwoven arcs for that story, this one is literally a joint effort paragraph by paragraph! It's been a blast to write so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as we do!

**Warnings: **This is a fusion fic! Human names (that are available) will be used for the nation-tans who are living in the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender (show. Not movie. Show.). This is an Alternate Universe. There is plenty of character death before everything will be done. Relationships (ESPECIALLY past relationships) are littered throughout this, so if you would like for us to announce what they are now, please leave a review stating as much. The majority of them aren't important and fairly predictable (and Right's too lazy to write them out right now...) but we will confess them upfront if you would feel more comfortable that way.

**Disclaimer: **Everyone should know this is a fanfic. Alas, let me confess my uselessness to the world. We, Ad Idem, do not own Hetalia or Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Avatalia: Earth Book**

**Chapter One: The Runaways  
**

The cold air whipped at their faces, their noses turning a frosty pink despite the many layers that weighed them down. The landscape they faced was vast and unchanging and very, very white. Matthew worried at his lip at the rolling-in clouds that spoke of an even colder night.

He leaned forward against the saddle, petting the furry head that bobbed in and out of the water. "C'mon, Kuma – can you move any faster? Please?"

The giant polar seal rumbled in a sad, sorry kind of way and Matt rubbed at the creature's ears. "That's alright," the blonde sighed. "We'll just have to outrun that storm, won't we?"

"Matthew," Seychelles, the other occupant on the saddle, said with a worried little pout. "Did you pack the seal blubber?" Kuma grumbled loudly, his eyes bright and wide. Sey rolled her own eyes heaven ward. "No, you great big bundle of fur, the _other_ kind of seal blubber."

"Uh," Matt said, his brows knitting. "It's not in the uh – the back?"

The dark-skinned girl stared at him. "You mean this back?" She waved behind her. "Or this back?" Now, in front. "Because this is the entire saddle, Matt, and I don't see it."

At first he was unsure if any audible response would be worthwhile. They both already knew that in his panic he had done what was usually left to his twin: charged ahead without properly preparing himself.

He could have kicked himself right then had it not been for the fact that he was really at the mercy of their faithful, blubbery friend now. And Kumajiro would not have appreciated a boot dug into his neck. "Sorry."

"Yeah, yeah," the girl scowled before clutching to the saddle more. "I'm sure Alfred will appreciate the fact that after we save his sorry butt, we can all starve together on the trip back."

Kuma released a concerned mewl at this which brought Matthew to gently stroking his side and whispering gentle reassurances to him.

But Matt was not so sure himself. If they miraculously beat this storm before they reached Peaks, the last stretches of tundra and 'dry' land before the great ocean, what were the odds that they could find a one passenger canoe? What were the odds that they could convince its sole passenger that he should come home?

And who, in their right minds, left to cross the entire ocean in a canoe to begin with?

"Although, knowing the twit, the only thing he brought with him to keep himself alive _is_ food," Sey mused aloud, a hand wrapping around her parka's hood as she hunkered further down. Matt, seeing this, surreptitiously scooted next to the younger girl in an effort to keep her warm.

"Yes, well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough." _I hope_. Scenes from the last time Matt had seen his twin flashed angrily across his mind's eye, just as raw and full of rage as it was when he had lived through it. He sighed, drained, running on nothing but anxiety and kept his eyes trained toward the horizon. Lightning streaked across the sky.

_Please be okay, Al_.

(&)

Alfred was shivering.

Not that that was different from any other day of the week. It was just now he was cold, hungry, and completely alone. Which made complaining about the shivering completely worthless. And unhelpful. Instead, he fought back the biting cold by digging through the only bag he bothered to bring with him.

Which was now empty.

"Son of a Serpent," he hissed. "I know I packed more food than this!" His eyes darted around the makeshift tent, consisting of one overturned canoe and the oar keeping it from cracking down on its captain's head. He found nothing but a rock. "I don't suppose _you_ ate the food did you?"

The rock said nothing.

"That's what I thought," he hissed before drawing his knees up to his chest and folding himself tightly together.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, his mitted hands grabbing the sides of his hood as he pressed his head as far back into the warmth as he could. He could almost feel the warm northern beaches, the hot summer air. Even if he had never been to the faraway lands, he knew what they looked like from the stories of his youth.

"Can't be that far now," he reminded himself, ignoring his chattering teeth and rolling stomach. He had only been gone for a day and a half, he could go a little longer, wait out the storm, catch some fish. His right hand reached back almost by its own will and withdrew the stolen map he tucked in his belt.

Straightening the map out the best he could over his trembling knees, Alfred stared at the beautiful, and all too familiar, details of the map. A master geographer had crafted this map of the known world with the fastest routes to each important port. It almost made him smile if he covered up the signature on the bottom.

Instead that signature mocked him. Loud, open, it scolded him, its invisible voice ringing in his ears. _You can't do this_, it chided in an all too familiar voice. _Without me you can't even get there on your own. You can't do anything on your own. Just a child. Still just a child._

Growling, Al roughly folded up the map and stashed it back in its rightful place. He knew the way, anyway. He had the whole place memorized. He didn't need its guide. He didn't need _anyone's_ guide. Least of all his.

"I got this far, didn't I?" He tried to ignore the steam that rose from his mouth as he spoke, the tremble in his voice. "I don't need him," he grumbled to the rock. Although his intention hadn't been to get angry all over again, he found the adrenaline pumping through his heart warmed his extremities and he clung to the warmth.

"I d-don't n-need any-y-o-one."

Something grumbled close by, loud, dull, earth moving. Al couldn't bring his sluggish mind to care. His whole focus was on the anger the map had given him. It tugged at his thoughts, along with the lingering whisper of _hypothermia _and something about shivering. That shivering was good, right? Or... or was it the other way around? Not shivering was... better? No, worse. He should know this. His mother told him.

He looked down to the hard, black rock beneath his boots and felt his eyes widen as the invincible ground suddenly cracked and split beneath him like the tip of a canoe split the water. His already labored breath hitched just as he felt the rocks which supported the left of his body give a jerk and he was tumbling onto a slab of stone.

The carefully placed oar fell to the right rock and left the canoe free falling until it met with Alfred's already cloudy mind. He let out a yell before collapsing beneath the heavy wood.

He muttered to himself about the indecency of a young Water Tribe Brave being pinned and trapped beneath his own canoe. Still, the shivering had returned with a vengeance by the time his mind decided to give up and quit beneath the canoe's weight.

All Alfred wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep. Whoever lifted the canoe off of him, however, had a different plan.

"What's-a this? Siesta?"

A face haloed in brown, curly haired looked down at Alfred with an all too wide smile. In a blur all too fast for Al's sluggish mind to follow, two wide and wonderfully warm hands griped the young warrior by the shoulders and hoisted him to the air with strength that belied the man's age.

The world tilted and churned sickeningly around and around and just when Alfred thought he might lose whatever lunch he had mindlessly stuffed down his throat, everything turned an inky black and he was falling... and then there was nothing.

He awoke with a jolt with his father's face looming down at him. The frost in his mind chipped away and cleared to the point where he expected his hand-made canoe to be hovering above him.

He found neither.

It was a man, but one with eyes soft and lined with years of laughing – something his father's face hardly ever showed. And he was standing far, _far_ too close.

"Jeez!" Alfred flailed against the man, scuttling back on his butt until his back hit a frozen wall and he cried out in shock as the ice forced itself through his parka. Cursing wildly he flew forward unseeingly, his mind working over time to catch up with his body. He barely had time to wonder where Matthew was and that something bright and warm was coming in close, when arms caught him around the middle and held him steady.

"You are so wild!" The man laughed jovially, ignoring Alfred's flailing. "You almost walked right into the fire~!"

"What?" Al questioned, his voice releasing an unhelpful timbre as, somewhere deep in his gut, he heard that snappy voice telling him to _man up_. "Let-let go of me! What do you think you're doing?"

The man's rugged face became long for a moment, his oddly stiff nose giving a strange wiggle. In his soft, golden eyes, Alfred could actually _see _him thinking over the question in his mind. Then the man stopped and grinned a boyish grin, one that would even put Alfred to shame.

"Imma saving you," he said, his words rolling off of his lips like water from a stream. He then tilted his head, pulled Alfred over to the side and, _at last, _released him.

He then stared expectantly at the youth, as if the answer to the first question was so obvious he felt bad enough to let him have another go. That did not sit well with Alfred's already injured psyche.

"Just who do you think you are?" Al demanded. "And where's my canoe? Where am I—" he turned and looked at the glow of the large fire. His eyes narrowed. "How did you get a fire going in that storm?"

"Your canoe smacked a'down on your head," the man responded as he rolled his right hand through the air, his left staying submissively by his chest. "So I had m'_Statue_ take it off you and bring you here to this cavern I made! You were such'a cold lil' thing. You made'a my heart want to break."

This made Alfred's already cluttered mind whirl again. He was going to have to find some steady ground soon else he might actually start getting sick. He then glared at the man again. "Your what?"

"Statue!" He waved his arm to the corner. "David."

Alfred turned his head and felt his breath hitch as he stared at a very life like, very _naked_ sculpture of a man who, oddly enough, looked a bit too much like his supposed savior. The Water Tribe Brave really _was _about to get sick.

"That's disgusting!" Al growled before shaking his head. "And I don't understand. Who are you? And how did you start that fire_?"_ The boy's eyes narrowed. "Are you a firebender?"

The man's face broke into an impossibly wider grin as his laugh echoed in the enclosed space. "_Si_, part of one. But I am made of many parts!" He thumped his chest as if to solidify this fact. He grinned and waved Alfred to sit next to him. "Sit, sit! The storm rages for now, si? We shall wait it out. Oh!" He clapped his hands, startling Al into nearly hitting his head against the roof of the cavern. "Do you know any, ah, _sinistro_ stories?"

But Alfred just stared at the man as if he'd gone completely mad. His blue eyes were bright and sinister looking in the fire light and it made the man pause, his eyebrows furrowing. "You do not like'a stories?"

"You're a firebender." Al's voice was smooth and sharp and it hissed like the stray snow flurries that were caught in the fire's tentacles. The man frowned, clearly confused at the rapid change in the boy.

"Si," he said slowly, "I am but a _part_ of one! Here, I will show you!" He raised a hand, ignoring the way Al retreated a few steps further from him, and with a twist of his wrist, the earth bunched and formed and shot out around Alfred, encircling the Brave. Al thrashed against it until he and the earth mound crashed back to the ground, a perfectly formed earth chair settled neatly under his rump.

"See!" said the man brightly. "_Part_ of one! I can do many things, you see!"

It was suddenly a very, _very _good thing that the man had created the seat beneath Alfred's feet because the boy's head was threatening to spin straight off his shoulders. He felt sick, he felt like he had just smashed the Water Tribe Shrine, broken his mother's Sacred Water Tablet. He felt as though he had just rolled over his own _religion._

Still, he had to be sure. It couldn't be a mistake. "Who are you?" he tried again, weakly.

The man grinned a lackadaisical grin and rubbed his stubbly chin. _"L'avatar di Roma," _he said, his voice managing to retain its songful lull while so many other chords were added to his tone. Pride. Wisdom. Humility.

Al felt himself grow weak, his body giving way into shakes. "You're really him," he whispered. "You're . . . you're the _Avatar."_

(&)

He stared at the pathetic, swishing remains of fuzzy rum in the bottle. His reddened eyes peered mercilessly at the vile liquid before he flung it with a swift toss of his arm. He ignored the fact that it broke against the icy wall of his home, narrowly missing a collision with the long haired man's head.

"Is that any way to treat the one who has been taking care of your boys, _mon cher_?" Francis' words were not unkind as he ducked around the bottle's remains littered on the floor and took the seat opposite the man with a patient little tilt of his head. "And keeping your house in one piece?"

"I don't want to bloody hear it!" Arthur snapped, slamming his fist against the table. A few empty bottles shuddered under the tremors and fell to the floor, shattering as well. He blinked furiously to get the man across from him to focus before he pointed an accusing finger at him. One of him. "Th—_this_ s'all _your_ fault."

Francis leaned back into his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "This might be true – and it could not be. Who is to blame is not the concern here, _mon cher_. Your boys love you very much, Arthur."

Arthur snorted loudly, sweeping his arm wildly across the table toward one of the less empty bottles. "S'certainly have a funny way of showin' it, _frog_." Swinging the bottle back, he spluttered as the rum missed his mouth and ran down his face. The second swing actually made it to his mouth. "Ungrateful brats. The lot of them."

Francis clicked his tongue, snatching the bottle from his friend's lax grip. Ignoring the infuriated, "Hey!", he threw the bottle in the corner of the room, watching it smash into a brilliant array of red against white with a certain satisfaction. He turned back to Arthur, hands on his hips. Arthur slouched back slightly at the force of the glare.

"Now that I have your undivided attention, _your boys,_ Arthur, the very last of what you have left of Elizabeth, are gone! They left because of your foolish stubbornness and only you can bring them back!"

Arthur stared blearily at the blonde-haired man with a distinctive drunkard haze. "They're gone?" He asked, his voice low and hoarse. Francis nodded curtly.

"_Qui_, Alfred has left many hours ago. _Mathieu_ has gone after him with his rather large bear."

This caused the shorter man to scowl. Oh, how he loathed that blubbery creature. "Knew s'was th-the bear behind it all."

Francis found no amusement in the slurs. Instead, he found himself sucking in air until his lungs were utterly filled before releasing a hint of his anger. "Arthur, this is quite enough of your silliness," the older chided. "You have been home for not even five days after being gone for _three_ years. Now it is time for you to be _Pére_ and your boys need you most. Do not waste it in one of your sorry spells!"

The thick brows of the captain hinged together and he pulled himself into a shaky stand. "Don't s'you talk t'me 'bout being a father! Lizzie 'n me basically took your girl in t'help you!"

"A debt I have always sought to repay," Francis said pointedly. "One you have made much too easy to do so." A pained expression came to his face. "She is _gone, _mon cher. But Alfred and Mathieu are not. Do not lose them to this storm. Do not lose them to your grief. There is still time to make amends."

Arthur stared at him painfully before rubbing his face. "Oh, by the gods. Why woul' they leave wi'd winter hittin'?"

"From the same stubbornness their father has in abundance, I'd imagine," Francis huffed, pulling his brightened fur coat closer to his neck as the wind whistled in the crevices of the wooden home they took shelter in. "Arthur," he started again, his voice full of warning, but the shorter man silenced him with a raised hand.

"Alright, _alright_," he scowled, pulling his arms through the Captain's coat that had been thrown haphazardly across his chair. It was proving difficult with the other bottle of rum he'd managed to tightly grasp in his hand. "I'll go brin' 'em b-_ack,_" he scowled at his own slurring speech and shook his head in attempt to clear the blur that had fallen across his vision. But the movement caused the room to spin uncontrollably and he had to close his eyes to keep from being sick.

He didn't realize he'd been falling until Francis caught him. The taller man _tsked_ in his ear, shouldering his weight. "Maybe I ought to go with you, _non?_"

"I don't nee' your help, _frog_," Arthur grumbled, but there was no heat behind his words. Francis shook his head, leading the Captain toward the door.

"Of course not, _mon cher_. Just to the ship, and then your merry band of pirates can keep you upright, yes?"

**TBC**

Right: Please review!**  
**


	2. A Peculiar Storm

**Left: **Hey folks! I believe it's finally my turn to get around to posting another chapter for this thing! Which is sort of ridiculous because we have almost the whole "book" finished, I dunno why it took me so long to get around to going "Oh hey, jeez, I was supposed to post for Avatalia this week", but I'm sure you'll ALL FIND IT IN YOUR HEARTS TO FORGIVE ME.

Or something.

Uuuh, what else what else… Oh! All your guys' reviews, favs, and story alerts mean the world to us! We're so happy you like our shi—er. Stuff. I know we've been a little lax in updating, but I think that'll change in the coming few days. We've got quite a few projects going that have sapped all but five percent of our attention the past week or so. BUT WE'RE GOOD NOW.

So, enough about that. Avatalia is hella fun to write, and we hope you enjoy it as much as we do!

**Disclaimer: **If we were making any sort of profit off of this, I would want a firebending pirate Gilbert action figure. Please. But just so we're clear, _we don't own any of it_.:C

**Avatalia: Book Earth**

**Chapter Two: A Peculiar Storm**

"Do you want to run that brilliant plan of yours one last time with me, Matt?" Even though she hollered at the top of her lungs, Seychelles wasn't sure her voice traveled to the hunkered-down blonde-haired boy as he tried unsuccessfully to get the giant polar seal out of the water.

"Kuma, come _on_! You have to get under the shelter with us," the boy pleaded with the giant lumbering animal. Kumajiro gave a meek mewling and rubbed his nose against Matthew's face, but made no attempt to move out of the water. Matthew scowled at the creature. "You're going to freeze to death if you stay in there!"

"Hurry up, Matt!" Sey yelled from her handmade igloo. "Just leave him! He'll figure it out soon enough."

Matt turned his head just enough to give the younger girl a warning glare, looking unmistakably like his brother for that moment before turning back toward Kumajiro. He was already in danger of losing his dimwitted sibling, he was not about to turn his back on the beast that had been nothing but a good friend to him.

"I know it seems cold up here right now," Matt admitted as he stroked his wet glove over the Polar Seal's soaking ears. He felt his heart ache as the clueless creature twisted around in the water so that its master's hand would be rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It's only going to get colder in the water, Big Guy. Not all the blubber in the world will help you if you're still in the wind _and _water."

The beast released a few short clicks before sinking its head under the waves, abruptly ending their 'conversation.' Matt released a frustrated groan just as a stinging gust met his uncovered face.

"MATTHEW!" Sey yelled, growing more frantic.

Somewhat defeated, the boy lowered his head and somberly came to his feet. Instinctively, his hands drew up to his hood and he clutched it as tightly against his bare skin as he could and then miserably pressed through the building snow to get to the igloo. He looked to Seychelles in utter despair. "He won't come."

"He'll be fine," Sey said pulling Matthew in closer, throwing her arms around his middle. "Get in here and keep me warm," she all but snapped. "I can't get the fire going."

"That's because there's nothing to burn," Matt muttered absently. He hardly even looked at her, his mind still focused on the furry creature hidden somewhere underneath them. Freezing to death, most likely. They'd find his body years and years from now, perfectly preserved under thousands of feet of ice and he'll still have that dopey look in his eyes. . .

"I've gotta get him out of there," Matt said standing abruptly. Seychelles was knocked off balance and she scrambled to her feet to grab at his parka's hem before he charged back out into the storm.

"You can't go out there again!" She tugged on his coat. "Don't be as bullrus-headed as your brother! Kuma is a big blubber of an idiot, but he's lived out here with his family long before you came along, Matt. He'll figure it out! Please, please don't leave."

Matt bit at the pad of his thumb, his eyes trained toward the opening of their igloo with a torn, lost look. Sey tugged one last time on his parka before he sighed, collapsing again next to her. She released a sigh she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Honestly," she said, rooting around in a bag she had brought in with them, "between you and Alfred, I don't see how you two can survive one day without me. Here." She dumped a pile of water-logged kindling and two average-sized logs into his lap. He looked at the pile and then at her, his face anything but comprehending. "Waterbend those," she said smartly, "and a small area over here on the ground, and then we can start a fire!"

While he did not give a verbal reply to her demands, Seychelles took solace in the fact that Matthew made his way to the directed area with the wood.

He took a deep breath after lying the wood down and closed his eyes. Asking Matt to waterbend was like asking him to _breathe. _Few things were more natural or instinctive for him. Feeling the _chi_ moving from his own body to the icy ground to the soaked logs before him, the young waterbender pulled knowingly at the air. He did not even have to open his eyes to know that the water concealed within the logs obeyed his movements.

While Sey did enjoy watching her instructor at work, she had her own business to attend to. She looked to the large saddle lying in the corner that they, fortunately, had managed to get off of their transport before he decided to go AWOL. Inwardly she sighed. There was no way that Matt would be able to rest, not with his brother and his pet out there in the freezing storm.

The young native made her way to the saddle and began to work her hands into the various pouches, pulling out the various warm blankets kept within them. She sighed slightly as she looked at the furry blanket from her room back in the Tribe's grounds and wondered if her Papa had begun to worry just yet.

"I think," Matt spoke up rather suddenly from the back, surprising Sey, "once I get this fire started I'll see if any schools of fish are swimming by." He did not look up from the newly dried sticks as he began to rub a flint against them. "If I start roasting some Salm-minnows, Kumajiro won't be able to resist them."

Sey smirked. "He'll have to fight with me over them."

(&)

"You hungry?"

Alfred was incapable of stopping the quakes that racked his body, but he was much too warmed by the fire to blame them on the bitter cold he had suffered. He merely stared in awe of the man before him who sat humbly on his knees while allowing someone as undeserving as Alfred sit in a chair. "No, not at all," he lied.

Roma's face looked stricken. "Then you won't share this meal with me?"

Alfred swallowed past the heartbreak in the Avatar's voice and the guilt that he'd said the wrong thing. "Uh, but you don't have anything to —" But where there once was nothing but fire, now suddenly three thick, well bred fish sizzled and smoked, a series of sticks holding them intricately in the flame. Alfred sputtered. "But—where—what—Where'd those come from?"

"_Que_? They have been there the whole time! You should pay more attention!" Roma said brightly, his voice dropping any hint of the heartbreak Al had caused moments before. "They are almost ready now, but there'a is so much! You should have one with me~. It will make'a the time go by faster."

"Ahh, yeah. Yeah, okay I-er-I guess I'll have one." Al was completely bewildered. But this _was_ the Avatar sitting before him, so why question it? "Listen, thanks for saving me out there," he started uncertainly, unsure how to speak to the _friggin Avatar_. He glanced over at the naked statue still holding his canoe over his head like a trophy. "I was pretty screwed out there for a minute."

"It was nothing!" Roma said jovially, climbing to his feet gingerly. His foot did a funny twist before taping the ground and a table suddenly rose and settled itself directly in front of Alfred. Another tap and another chair was pulled from the ground and sat on the other side. "Eating alone'a is so miserable, you know! Especially when you have'a wonderful food to share with friends."

In the span of a blink of an eye, there was a steaming fish-on-a-stick settled in front of Alfred's watering mouth.

His stomach betrayed him and a familiar, obscenely loud whine broke through the tense air. It caused Alfred to blush and Avatar Roma to laugh. "You are'a so hungry, eat, eat."

Never being one to refuse hospitality for too long, particularly hospitality involving food, Alfred soon found himself dining feverishly on the hot meat. It was so good that he was afraid he'd eat it too fast and miss out on some of the succulent flavors.

It was even better than Francis' food!

"Is food bending one of the arts learned by the Avatar, too?" Alfred questioned despite his mouth being filled to the brim with fish-on-a-stick. He just could not stop eating it, was he really that hungry? Was he really all that surprised that he was that hungry?

The strange man laughed a deep, throaty laugh and shook his head. "Ah, no. Bending, even for the Avatar, is reserved to the elements," Roma proclaimed before waving his right arm wildly around the newly constructed lair. "Earth." To the glowing flames. "Fire." To the ice melded into the cracks of the slab walls. "Water."

Suddenly, the Avatar bristled and turned quickly in his seat to face the entrance to the quaint structure and thrust his arm forward, sending a blistering gust of wind forward, and causing the creature lurking outside to cry out in surprise and disappointment. "Wind."

Alfred was suddenly on his feet, nearly, but thankfully not entirely, dropping the fish-on-a-stick in his hand. His eyes widened. He'd recognize that whine anywhere. "Kuma?"

Roma's eyebrows quirked curiously at Alfred. "You can speak with animals?"

"What? No," Alfred said distractedly, torn between the fish-on-a-stick and the prospect of his brother's pet freezing outside. "My brother named him when he found the fur ball years ago." He turned bright-blue eyes toward the older man. "Can you let him inside? He's kind of big but—"

Before Al could even finish his sentence, Roma had waved his hand and the walls expanded, billowing out and around a suddenly frightened Kumajiro who chirped is surprise, but did nothing to get away. Alfred ran over to the polar seal and ran his hands across the creature's nose.

"You're freezing," Al muttered to himself as Kuma gave a very purr-like grumble of contentment. "What are you doing all the way out here? Matt will kill himself worrying about your sorry hide…" A sudden thought struck Alfred and it froze him to his bones. He grabbed the creature's head, turning Kuma roughly to the side to get a better look at his back. There was no saddle. He swore under his breath, bringing Kuma's face around so they were eye to eye.

"Listen to me you big bundle of fur, did Mattie come out here with you? Where is he? Is he hurt? Is he out in this storm?" The rapid-fire questions seemed to fall flat with the creature who merely blinked sluggishly back at Alfred. "Dammit, Mattie," he said quietly. "What have you gotten yourself into now. . ."

The Brave turned and faced the Avatar. While reverence remained in the boy's stature, his eyes burned with a newfound determination. "My brother's out there in this storm," Al explained to Roma. "I have to find him and get him home before the idiot gets himself killed," he smirked slightly to himself, "trying to save me."

Moving over to the pet's side, Al dug his gloved fingers into the Polar Seal's fur and prepared to pull himself onto the back of the animal when he heard a click. The Water Tribe youth blinked before feeling the earth rattle and himself being pushed up into the air by a slab of earth. He then easily slung his leg over Kumajiro's back.

Avatar Roma walked steadily toward the Polar Seal. "Your brother will need'a help in this storm, si?" The man's golden eyes then flickered. "Where will you take him once you have saved him?"

"Back to our colony," Al responded, his mind not even bothering to ask why the Avatar cared. "The Southern Water Tribe."

There was a click again and suddenly Avatar Roma was lifted up to the creature's back as well and gently sat side saddle behind Al. He smiled and nodded to the boy. "It is most fortunate then that we have crossed paths. I was on my way to the Water Tribe. I shall help you find your brother now, si?"

Al suddenly felt his chest puff out. He was going on an adventure _with the Avatar!_

(&)

The wind howled, but the albino didn't care. He grinned madly as he looked over the mast of the massive ship. "I see land!" he screamed obnoxiously, causing the bird on his hat to flutter in surprise. "It be a cold bitch today, Cap'n, but I see her! And you won't _believe_ whose ship is at port!"

"You'll have to tell me what it is before I can be the judge of that." The Captain came up to the bow, the great ship he adored so much plowing through the waves despite the rapid weather that churned and tore at the sea. From the folds of his coat, he snapped open a golden spyglass and peered through its eye. "I'll be damned," Captain Antonio breathed, a smirk sharp and twisted pulling at his lip. "Captain Arthur Kirkland. This is an interesting twist of fate."

"Fate's got _nothin'_ to do with it, Cap'n!" Gilbert hollered from the crow's nest, seemingly still able to hear the Captain's words despite the wind that drowned anything else out. "It's just meant to be, I say." His grin seemed to crack at the edges it was so wide.

Antonio never looked up from his spyglass and the flag that it was centered on, but he did give a small huff. "Fate means _meant to be_, _señor _Gilbert."

"What? Can't hear ya, Cap'n!"

"Hmm," Antonio hummed, sliding the spyglass closed with a snap and stowing it away. "Seems we caught them just as they were trying to leaving. We will have to fix that. _Señor _Carlos!" He suddenly barked, his voice loud and domineering. A man, though quite heavy set, appeared limberly from below deck and came to the captain's side. "Prepare the crew to board ship, we are taking the _Brittana."_

"If any of the crew's not frozen stiff, y'mean," Carlos hissed back, his own arms shuddering as he rubbed them. "We haven't got 'nuff coats to fit all the crew and I betcha it's cold enough to kill a man." He then looked to the port ahead. He narrowed his eyes. _"Capitán,_ you didn't say nothing about the _Brittana. _We were just gonna raid some backwards colony. That's what'chu said."

Antonio folded his arms stoically and leaned back. He moved his jaw slightly before shifting his green eyes to the albino man beside him. "You hear him, _Primer_ Mate Gilbert?" he asked with a lofty air to his voice.

"Certainly did, Cap'n," Gilbert, who was suddenly no longer in the crow's nest, responded before rubbing his chin. "Sounds a lot like pussy footin' around."

"No, no, no," Antonio snorted. "Not on _my _crew, _mi amigo._ Why, I'd throw them overboard to the lion turtles if I heard that. Wouldn't you?"

"Aye, I don't tolerate pussies," Gilbert responded before grinning. "Of a certain variety."

"Mental cases," Carlos moaned before turning and making his way back down to the crew. "I'll fetch your crew, _Capitán, _just don't go yellin' at me again when we come back with only half. Damn _Brittana._ Damn South Pole. Damn dirty crew."

The two waited for him to leave before looking back to the approaching land. Antonio brought his boot to the edge of his ship's bow and peered through the spyglass yet again. A knowing smirk began to grow upon his face and he shook his head. "You screwed up this time, _Viejo amigo," _he chuckled to the image of the _Brittana _captain in his head. "And if this is your home port, like I think it is, well, you _really _screwed up."

(&)

"Oy, Captain! We leaving so soon? We barely got here! What about them brats of yours? I thought we were takin' them along with us!"

Captain Arthur groaned, shouldering past the man with the gravity defying hair, not even bothering to answer him. The man turned to the crew who were in varying stages of returning to the jobs they had done for three years and shrugged. Their Captain wasn't talkative on the best of days. This, certainly, didn't qualify as _the best of days._

Francis fluttered behind Arthur, never a step too far away in case the shorter man planned to take a tumble to the earth again. Well, now it would be the surface of the _Brittana, _which was no less bruise-inducing. Arthur did his best to ignore the brightly-colored man as he stumbled up the steps to the helm, taking a moment to take a long drought of the bottle in his hands and wiping his mouth with the back of his coat sleeve. He turned to the crew.

"Listen up, gents! There's a bear out in that storm and he's got my boys with him. An' we are. . . An'. . . we. . ." He blinked furiously, his rather unique eyebrows furrowing as he grasped at his stray thoughts. "An'... an'... an' what are we going to do about it?" The last part was vaguely directed at the man behind him.

Francis cleared his throat. "You are going after them, _mon capitaine_, rescuing them from the throws of death like the hero of Alfred's stories he loves so much."

Arthur snapped his fingers, nodding vigorously. "Aye! Aye. We will be doin' that then. So, ship up and shape out, lads."

"Aye, Captain," came the broken and slightly disjointed reply. Half the crew had taken to their vacation rather quickly after boarding in the South Pole and were less than thrilled to be back into the swing of things so soon. Captain Arthur's eyes narrowed to dangerous green flints.

"What was that, lads?" His voice was laced with warning and promises of great retribution. The crew bristled and jumped together at one in a much more profound out-cry of,

"Aye Captain!"

"S'what I thought you said." Giving a final satisfied nod, the Captain turned and somehow blindingly found his way to his quarters, collapsing into his chair with a withered sigh. Francis stood in the doorway with his arms folded, regarding his old friend with a tilted head. Scowling, Arthur scrubbed at his face tiredly. "Go away, frog. I can find my way from here."

"Seychelles is missing."

Green eyes snapping open, Arthur's gaze was suddenly cleared from the befuddling rum haze. "What?"

"It appears," Francis began, "that she has gone with your _Mathieu _in his attempt to track down Alfred."

"Captain! You eh, might be wantin' to see this!"

"I'll find her," Arthur said fervently, suddenly on his feet again, hands planted on his desk. He eyes were unwavering and steady as he said, "I'll find them, Francis. All of them. I can fix this." He strode around the desk and made his way back out to the deck he just left. As he passed Francis, the taller man said assuredly,

"Ah, I know you will, _mon ami_, of that, I have no doubt. You simply needed a push in the right direction."

"Then maybe you can find the right direction to the kitchen for some of that tea I picked up in Ba Sing Se!" the Captain called out, disappearing in a flurry of snow, wind, and sleet as he shouldered the door open.

The crewman that had talked to Arthur earlier stood at the stern, a small dingy spyglass in his hands trained toward the horizon. He tossed the object to Arthur as the Captain neared the man and pointed out to sea. "Looks like we've got a couple of chasers on our tails, y'see?"

Squinting through the spyglass and the haze of the snow worn atmosphere, a lone browned splotch against the wintery landscape was just discernible amongst the storm. A gold and red flag whipped in the wind atop the ship's mast. Arthur snapped the spyglass closed.

"Den!"

"Uh, aye Captain?"

"You think you can get this sorry excuse of a crew shipped up to sail in out in ten minutes?"

Den grinned a slightly manic smile that warped his whole face. "Just need the right kind of persuasion technique, Captain, and anything can be done."

"Good then. Let's get this old girl out to sea! We've got children to find!"

**TBC**

Please review!**  
**


	3. Impressive Bending

**Right: **Thanks to everyone who favs/watches this story! It's really exciting and Left and I both REALLY enjoy this series we're writing. So much so that it's almost comical. Ahem. But in all reality, we greatly appreciate any and all support! I just hope you don't mind having a chapter beta read by me because I'm not NEARLY as good at it as Left so there may be a hitch here or there.

**Disclaimer: **We would claim to own everything if it wasn't highly illegal to do so. Or ... on ... a fanfiction site...

**Avatalia: Book Earth**

**Chapter Three: Impressive Bending  
**

He chewed relentlessly at the skin of his thumb, his eyes darting about the small residence as he attempted to calm himself. Matt couldn't believe how bad the storm had gotten, let alone how fast it took for the weather to become so bad.

The hope he was clinging to desperately for his brother's safety as well as the return of common sense to his favorite Polar Seal was beginning to dwindle.

Seychelles could see it in his eyes.

Curled into his side as Matthew encircled her with his long arms, Sey looked at her closest friend and teacher. It made her heart ache. "Matt, it's going to be okay," she reminded him. "You really have to stop worrying yourself. Kumajiro is a big, blubbery mess of fur. He was _made_ for this sort of thing."

"Not this bad," Matt responded almost without a thought. "Each year this gets worse." He then brought down his thumb enough to pull her flush against his chest. She did not protest. "And either way . . . _Al _isn't made for this weather. He barely can stand summer weather."

With that thought he moaned and buried his face against Sey's hood. Matt just did not know what to do anymore. There were no obvious answers.

The younger waterbender scowled and turned more directly to her teacher. She cupped her hands beneath his chin and forced him to look her in the eyes. There she held his gaze as she brushed the bangs from his forehead.

"You can't give up like a dainty little wallflower, Matt," she said rather sternly to him. "It's … very unbecoming for you. You're stronger than that. And I don't like having to remind you of that all the time."

He made a small noise of protest and looked away from her, his glove-less hand returning to the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to _all _the time."

She grabbed his thumb and jerked it away from his teeth before they could sink into the flesh. The dark eyes of the waterbender native narrowed.

"Stop that," she ordered. "You're making me a nervous—"

They both rocked back and forth with the hard earth, loose snow falling from the cracks of their igloo as the disruption shook them all. It was so shocking that only Matthew's quick dodge kept them from going into the recently made fire.

Matt pulled Sey back as their igloo crumbled around them, razor-sharp wind whipping their faces as their walls fell away. Unsure of what was going on, Matt stepped in front of Sey and waited.

"Mattie!"

Despite the howling wind, Alfred's voice was so easily discernible that for a minute Matt thought he was still dreaming. Then Alfred slid down the back of a furry white mass and dashed up to them, slamming into Matthew with a full-body hug that sent them reeling back.

He was now sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Al-Alfred?" Matthew spluttered, trying to right himself. Sey made a squeaky noise like a mouse being stepped on, and Matt realized they had slammed her into the wall of the igloo. "Al, you're squishing Sey-"

But Al wasn't listening. "What are you idiots doing out here? What is _wrong _with you, coming after me?"

"What's wrong with us?" Sey's voice was able to finally raise itself over the shrill cries of the wind. She shoved harshly against the twins to give herself some breathing room. "What's the matter with _you_ coming out in this storm to begin with?"

Matt was silently agreeing with his young friend but felt too much emotion to show it. He lunged, wrapping his arms back around his brother.

"I thought I was going to come out here and find an Al-cicle," the waterbending twin sighed with a great relief. He then looked over Alfred's shoulder to see a yawning sack of blubber. Whatever composure he previous had was lost and he released his brother and shoved past him to check on the Giant Polar Seal. "KUMAJIRO!"

Alfred stood where he was shoved for a moment and blinked in bewilderment. He then scowled. "Oh, I see how it is!" He then buckled under the punch of a certain female Water Tribe native. "Ow! Sey! What the hell?"

She pointed a gloved finger at him. "You owe us, you armadillo-wolf skulled idiot! Now help us rebuild this igloo. We can't go back home until after this storm blows over!"

Alfred snorted and shook the building snow from his hair. "We're not going to rebuild anything."

Sey just stared at him. "Are you insane? Of course we do! We'll freeze to death!"

"No we won't. Not when we have our very own earth shaker!" Al waved his hand grandly at Kumajiro and his twin, who was still hanging off the creature's face. Kuma gave a small squeaky nod.

"The wind has finally gotten to your brain," Sey said, staring. Despite the tone of her voice, her eyebrows knitted concernedly. "Al, Kuma is a giant Polar Seal, sure, but I don't think he can rebuild an igl—"

"Well hello, _poco_ waterbenders!"

Matthew, who had been more than content with burrying his face into the furry face of his once-lost companion, nearly jumped out of his skin at the lofty, sing-song voice which was carried by the winds from the back of his furry friend to him. He joined Seychelles and Alfred in glancing to the back of the aquatic companion to see an older, though charming man sitting atop the beast.

Matt stepped back slightly, though his hand never left his Polar Seal's nose as the man slid down the slope of Kumajiro's shoulder and landed on the snow covered Earth.

Sey frowned before glaring at Al. "You're bringing an outsider to our territories, Al? Are you _trying _to get yourself exiled? And an _Earthbender?_ Your dad will flip—"

To this the Brave rolled his eyes and threw his arms into the air. "OH, poor Arthur! Hey, guess what, Sey, I don't care! Besides, it's not like I'm staying at the colony for too long after I get back. I'm just making sure you two idiots and the Avatar get there safely in this storm. Because I'm a hero like that."

"You're an idiot," Sey growled.

She and Matthew both took a collective breath before nearly snapping their necks to look back at the man before them. Their jaws dropped.

_"The Avatar!"_

"Of course," Al said triumphantly. He folded his arms and cocked his head as the tall man stepped closer. Matt shrunk further into Kuma as he neared. "Who else would I bring into _your_ territories, Squirt?"

"Brrr," the Avatar shivered, rubbing his hands together. "It is far too cold to talk like this!" In a wave and a slam of his foot, the earth leaped to attention and encircled them, Kumajiro, and the now burned out fire into a much warmer, larger igloo made of rock. Another wave and the fire jumped to life. "Ahh," he smiled. "So much better now, si? What were you saying little waterbender?"

Sey had the decency to gape open-mouthed at the man. Alfred couldn't help but chuckle at her.

"You made her speechless. That proves you are the Avatar – only someone with _awesome_ power can do that." He turned in a full circle, waving for his twin to step closer. Kuma moved for him so he was nearly breathing down his back. Al shook him off with an annoyed roll of his eyes. "Guys – Kuma – this is Roma, the Earth Bender. Oh, also, he's the Avatar. Cool, right?"

(&)

What a miserable time to be drunk.

Arthur found himself blinking wildly before at last his vision cleared and he was able to block the thrust of his rival's ax blade with his own cutlass. But that damn Antonio was always a bit stronger and a bit taller … and a bit less drunk. The angry _Britannia_ captain could only let out a fierce growl as his back slammed with the deck of his own ship, all of his strength focused on keeping the cutlass and ax far enough away from his head to avoid a beheading.

"It appears, for you, _amigo, _things have taken a turn for the worse," Antonio spat, sarcasm leaking from his every soft spoken word.

"Indeed, a real turn for the shitter," Arthur snapped in short, choked breaths right before the opposing captain was flipped off his feet and knocked back away from Arthur.

The flash of blue told the bleary eyed captain all he needed to know about the cause.

Sitting up, Arthur turned and nearly lunged at the long haired blond approaching him casually. Francis' arms waved around his body delicately, redirecting the liter of water used to knock the other pirate flat on his ass. It did little to help the state of things on the rest of the ship which had erupted into bloody panic with the invading forces of Antonio's bundle of scallywags.

"I had to defend my honor, you prat!" Arthur roared.

"Non, Arthur. You are a pirate," Francis said with a disapproving shake of his head. "Honor is not any of your concern."

Arthur bristled under Francis' stare. "We have a code!" He defended, straightening his collar. He hardly had a minute to think of anything else to say when, swift as the water currents that brought his _Brittana_ to his homeland, Arthur's cutlass whipped around and stopped the incoming ax a mere few inches from impaling itself into Francis' shoulder. Francis gasped.

"Pay attention or stay out of the way, Frog." Pushing forward, Arthur threw Antonio's blade back, sending the man sprawling back into, thankfully, one of Arthur's crew mates. As Captain Antonio defended himself against the onslaught of another, Arthur turned back to his friend, assessing the damage to his ship as he did so.

His crew were handling themselves as he trained them to. However, that also meant half of them were half-blinded by their rum soaked veins, and it could be seen in the way Antonio's crew were quickly over-powering them. Like koala-sheep herding, they were all moving to the center of the deck, where Arthur stood with Francis. He scowled.

Francis, who was also watching the carnage unfold, sighed and shook his head. "Arthur," he started, "it is not weak to ask for their hel—"

"No!" Arthur snapped, blocking another blow from some one's wandering throw of their blade. "This is _my_ ship! I will protect it or sink with it—"

His words were drowned out by a deep, growling roar. It shook the floorboards of the _Brittana_ and soon everyone stopped mid-swing to listen. It would have looked rather ridiculous, had their attention not all been drawn to the huge wave careening toward them at the exact same time. Francis smirked as Arthur growled,

"Bloody hell."

Den, who landed sluggishly on the ground after a blow from a familiar white haired first mate, was able to roll out of the way of some strikes before looking up to the approaching doom. The spiky haired pirate looked up to the deck where the captain stood.

"We have a problem, Captain!"

"I can see that, Den!" Arthur roared back before throwing his hat to the side and gripping tighter to his cutlass. He looked through the blurry whiteness of the winter storm to his old friend and scowled. "Fine, call the elders, dammit. At the very least tell them to not let these freebooters reach the colony. They'll make a bloody disaster of the place."

Francis rolled his eyes at this as Arthur leaped to the lower deck without taking the sensible approach known as stairs. "Of course, one set of pirates much improves the situation brought about by another."

He then wasted no time in removing a horn from his belt and giving it a quick, tight blow, sounding like the bellow of a caribou-rat. He then focused his energy on the crashing wave.

The wave was moving fast, building speed and height as it neared the ship. Its roar was so deafening, one could scarcely hear the reaction to the conjoined ship's crews. Except for one very clear, "_Mierda."_

Francis, however, wasn't listening. He knew what was coming and how to bend it to his own will, but he could not do it alone. Putting faith into his colony, Francis closed his eyes as the wave broke and, pausing slightly for everyone to gape at, finally crashed atop the deck.

Moving with the current, Francis led the water through and around the crew, sweeping away some less than friendly companions in the process. Although you could not see them, Francis knew they were there – many age-worn hands of waterbenders guiding the wave over them –and then, with one last pause of breath, the wave was gone.

Francis opened his eyes to the entire crew – plus some – staring wide-eyed at him.

"The fuck was that!" Den scrambled to his feet, dripping wet, but very much alive. "That was friggin awesome!"

Muttering to himself about the need of the colonists to be overly showy, Arthur straightened his jacket. Looking down to the youth, he offered a hand to let him up, pulling the boy to his feet.

"That, Den, was my colony's senile bastards having a good laugh from the sidelines," he explained before looking to Francis as the man walked calmly down the upper deck's steps. The older man was fluffing the feather plume of the captain's hat. "And you!" Arthur hissed. "Don't think I didn't notice how lax your form is! What were you? Kneading bread or waterbending?"

_"Mon ami, _not all waterbenders can have the natural finesse of your dearest _Mathieu," _Francis responded before offering the Captain his hat.

Arthur took it and shoved it roughly back to where it belonged before storming over to the corner side of the boat and leaning out toward the opposing pirates who were all but washed up on the docks.

"Hey, you sorry sods!" the Captain yelled out with an amused grin working its way onto his face. He rested an elbow on the banner and laughed, particularly at Antonio's glares of anger. "If you're thinking of taking on my ship in the midst of winter on the bloody South Pole, perhaps you should learn to bring some coats!"

He laughed a deep, throaty laugh along with the majority of the crew until a familiar, soft tap was felt on his shoulder. Arthur whirled around to face his pale, unnervingly calm first mate who sighed.

"Well? Out with it, Nor!" the Captain demanded as a wave of nausea he had suppressed with his excitement began to come back.

"Um," was all the other announced before pointing to the docks where the very village elders responsible for the harrowing rescue … were clothing the enemy pirates with warm blankets and coats from their—_Arthur's—_village!

"Wh-what—the bloody hell!" Arthur turned, staring accusingly at the blonde-haired waterbender. "What are your colony's idiots doing!"

"Ah, so they're _my_ colony's senile bastards now?" Francis shook his head, tsking. "You should make up your mind, _Mon ami_."

"Looks like they're confusing the enemy for friendlies, Captain!" Den supplied helpfully, peering over the edge of the deck until his feet were nearly off the planked floor. "Actually, it looks kind of nice. And warm."

Antonio waved from the shoreline. His first mate jeered something that ended in _suckers_ followed by a cheer from the rest of the crew.

Arthur growled, storming back to the mast. "Never mind them! We need to get unhooked from their blasted excuse of a ship and get back to our mission!" Francis smiled but nodded approvingly at the Captain's back.

**TBC**

Please review!**  
**


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